Traces of Light
by IvaChism
Summary: In the absence of light, Kylo Ren becomes the monster he's always sought to become. But light has a habit of rising to meet the darkness, and this case is no different.
1. Prologue

"I'm sorry Ben. They wanted to be here, they really did. Things got in the way."

When he didn't answer, Luke leaned down and ruffled his thick black hair.

"Come on, let's see if we can find something fun to do. You've always liked to play with the training droids, let's go do that."

Ben nodded and trailed after Luke, lips pressed into a thin line.

* * *

Another birthday gone and another absence from his parents.

But that's alright. At least he had his uncle.

It was an accident. He hadn't meant it.

But the other padawans had been teasing him, because who else was worth teasing if not the black sheep, the loner, the strange boy who kept to himself? They took his silence for arrogance- the prim son of Princess Leia, the son of the roguish war-hero Han Solo, the nephew of Master Skywalker- Darth Vader's grandson.

His lineage was the most well-known in the galaxy and royalty ran through his very veins.

Of _course_ he thought he was too good for them, they thought. So they decided to knock him down a peg or two with a few insults, some pushes, a little bit of teasing. It wasn't as if he would speak up. He stayed as far away from Master Luke as he did them.

But when their verbal abuse escalated to physical violence, he finally retaliated.

The med-droids reported the comatose boy would awake in a month or two, hopefully with full recovery of his body and mind.

Luke looked at him differently after that incident.

Ben would grow to despise that strange look.

Suffice it to say, the rest of the temple never spoke ill of Ben again- at least, not where he could hear them.

* * *

He didn't see his parents in person for years.

On special occasions he'd receive a prerecorded hologram.

Leia tried to send them monthly, though work could get in the way. Occasionally Han would join her. The blue figures grew more and more unrecognizable until he didn't bother watching them at all.

* * *

There were a few animals that roamed the forest outside of the Jedi temple.

Canine-like animals with furry tails as long as their bodies.

The creatures were a curious bunch, and the Jedi were by far the most interesting thing on the planet.

As such, one could hardly venture into the forest surrounding the temple without tripping over a whole pack of them, chirping like birds and wagging ridiculously long tails. They didn't have one wary bone in their body. It was a wonder the species had survived this long.

He'd gone outside to meditate after another sparring victory. The look on the rest of the padawans' faces as he towered over the defeated boy had made his skin crawl. The temple was growing more and more confining, and the looks his Uncle was sending him with increased frequency… it stoked a fit of dark anger that made his throat tight.

A small river cut through the forest bordering the temple. He liked to sit beside it and listen to the trickling water and the sound of fish slapping their fins against the water as they caught bugs off the surface.

He'd barely shut his eyes to meditate when a wet nose was nudging his arm. Opening one eye, he looked down at the little canine creature begging for his attention.

Ben pushed it away, glaring, then closed his eyes once more.

A minute passed and he was just beginning to center himself when a nose pressed against his back, and another against his thigh.

Dazedly returning to himself, he twisted around and saw a whole pack sprawled behind him, lounging in the sun.

The ones that weren't snoozing chirped when he noticed them, tails lazily thumping against the ground.

An unwarranted sense of fondness suffused him, and he gave up meditating in order to lay back and let the creatures surround him, drawn to his body heat.

It was the long-sought and long-denied peace he was constantly searching for.

It was warm, like the sun on his face and their fur beneath his fingers.

He'd enjoy the peace as long as it was offered.

When he returned the following week, a predator triple the size of himself had devoured the entire pack, leaving naught but streaks of blood and fur and the remnants of their terror in the force.

Ben didn't give it a swift death. He tore it to shreds, and tore those shreds to shreds, all while paying extra attention to avoiding its demise, intent on dragging its pain out for as long as possible.

Throughout it all, a voice in the back of his mind hummed happily even as his heart wrenched painfully.

He didn't go into the forest after that.

* * *

The voice followed him often.

It whispered kind words, words Ben had never heard from another.

_You're powerful. You have so much potential, you're strong. But no one else notices. I notice. I'll stay with you. I'm here. I'll always be here. _

When Ben won a duel, the voice would goad him to finish it while his victim lay sprawled at his feet.

When someone accidentally bumped against his shoulder in the hall, the voice begged him to take his newly created 'saber and cut them in two.

And as Luke grew more and more distant, that damn _face _of his growing more and more shuttered, worried, cautious, as if eyeing a snake in the grass, the voice grew stronger in response.

It became such a regular fixture in his life that Ben was unable to tell the difference of which thoughts belonged to him and which belonged to the _other. _

When his dreams grew especially vicious, he took to wandering the halls of the temple to clear his mind.

The cool stone beneath his feet was far more preferable to the insufferable heat that was burning his mind alive.

It was on one of those nights that he heard Luke speaking in a hushed voice.

Blue light flooded through a doorway, illuminating the darkness, presumably from a holocron.

"He's not a child anymore." Luke sounded frustrated, as close to anger as Ben had ever heard him. "He's nearly a man. Soon he'll have strength that I don't think I'll be able to control."

"That's a good thing, Luke. I know this is new to you. It's new for all of us. You're pioneering the next Jedi order- it's a hefty burden to bear. If you'd just trust him, he could help you."

His mother. He almost didn't recognize her voice.

"We've talked about this, Leia. He's unstable. No matter what I do to help, he doesn't understand how to control himself." Luke paused. "Or maybe he doesn't _want _to control himself."

Ben waited for her to respond, to scold Luke, to say that of course Ben wouldn't act like that, that he was good and of the light. She didn't say anything.

"And his _face, _Leia. I hardly recognize him anymore. There's a… a darkness surrounding him, and his eyes, maker, when I look into his eyes I see something staring back."

"That's enough," Leia said, voice clipped.

His uncle sounded defeated. "I don't know what to do anymore. What if he-… what if he's like my father?"

"He's your _nephew. _You're there to guide him. You need to help him." She was quiet a moment. "I'm coming to visit."

"Leia-"

"No. I haven't seen my son in years. I thought if I stayed away, if I let him discover himself without his legacy weighing on him… I thought it would be for the best. He didn't deserve to be born with such a weight on his shoulders." She sighed and was quiet for a long time. "I wish he could've been a normal boy, lived a normal life."

Luke was silent for a long moment. "He's not the boy you once knew. I've failed you, Leia. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

A hollowness Ben hadn't known existed in his chest grew, swallowing his heart and whatever faith he'd had in Luke.

He stole back into the night, trembling.

* * *

If he'd not heard Luke's conversation, he wouldn't have lived through the night.

But as it was, he'd been staring at the stone wall of his room blankly. He was scared of seeing his mother again. Would she recognize him? Would she be disappointed in him? Would _he _recognize _her?_

His thoughts were swirling like a dust devil.

The sound of a lightsaber split the night. The force compressed around him, stinging his skin and jolting him upright like an electrical surge.

Ben's lightsaber rose to meet the one descending upon him. In the light of the terrible blue light his Uncle's face looked monstrous. The betrayal stung so deeply that he felt nauseous.

His Uncle looked as horrified as he felt.

Ben brought the stones falling around them, the thunderous shatter hiding the sound of the wretched sob ripping from his chest.

That night, every single inhabitant of the Jedi temple fell to his blade.

That night, Ben died.

That night, all rays of light vanished from his soul and he finally bowed to the darkness that had been building day by day. It was a release when he finally let go. His sorrow turned into pure power, a dark euphoria he relished in.

The voice in his mind- was it his? He wasn't quite sure anymore- shouted with manic glee with each splash of blood, with each scream ceased, with each head severed.

Standing amongst the ruins of the temple, dripping blood and taking deep lungfuls of air that had been denied to him by the weight of the Jedi way, Kylo Ren was born.

The voice in his head introduced itself as Snoke.

Kylo Ren bowed to it.

* * *

AN: Please be advised, this will be a very violent story. I have most of it written and I'll try to update weekly at the least.

This is a slow burn so please be patient with our emotionally constipated babies' arcs.

-Iva


	2. Fractured

Traces of Light

The Supreme Leader sat back into his throne and considered his apprentice.

Kylo Ren.

His weak creation, one that had failed him time and time again. The apprentice that should've been unbeatable, from the training given by Snoke himself to the legacy that ran through his veins. But a girl- a _girl- _one that hadn't once held a lightsaber before, had defeated, maimed, and humiliated him.

Pathetic.

He held Kylo Ren's mind tight in his fist and squeezed harder. Any more and his apprentice's mind would fracture like glass on concrete.

"You're weak," he said. He could sense the blood welling from the boy's eyes, his ears, his nose. Kylo scrambled to take his helmet off, gagging and gasping for air past the sanguine, thick blood.

"You will not!" he bellowed into Kylo's mind. "You have earned this. Choke on your blood. You'd be of more use to me dead."

His apprentice obediently lowered his hands, though they trembled.

Snoke squeezed harder, not only upon Kylo's mind but upon his very bones. They creaked and threatened to splinter like dead leaves crushed in a fist.

His apprentice collapsed to his knees, shoulders trembling and falling into themselves.

"Weak," Snoke said again. He released Kylo so suddenly that he toppled forward bonelessly, splayed out like a dead man- the only evidence otherwise was the creaking rasp of his barely-there breath filtering through his mask, wet and dragging from the blood flooding his mouth.

"Sit up."

Kylo pushed his hands beneath him and began to shakily rise.

Snoke leaned forward, hand held out, and tore through his body with lightning.

"Do not keep me waiting!"

The young man worked past his seizing muscles, scrambled for purchase and rose, quivering and shuddering and close to falling.

Snoke sat back, his voice suddenly somber. "I've been good to you, have I not?"

Kylo gagged once, twice, then managed to rasp a 'yes, master.'

"I've treated you like my own son."

"Yes, master." Kylo took a step back to catch himself, then regained his poise, shoulders held back, and head respectfully bowed.

"And yet you've failed me."

Kylo dared to look up. "It will never happen again, Supreme Leader. I won't fail you. I'll kill the girl, I'll kill Skywalker. I'll prove myself to you."

Snoke tutted.

"My dear apprentice," he considered Kylo Ren. "How are you going to fulfill my wishes when you are so weak?"

Snoke took his apprentice's mind in his hand once more and squeezed, squeezed until it shattered into a thousand pieces.

Kylo fell to his knees and hung his head forward listlessly.

It was certain now. Kylo Ren would never return, and Snoke had made sure of it.

In his apprentice's place, an obedient and mindless soldier remained.

All Snoke could've asked for.

Now was that so hard?

Snoke's Elite Praetorian Guard.

They attacked him, day after day. The concept of time itself ran together like watercolors until it no longer existed.

His life had devolved into a simple, savage, constant fight for his life.

Sleep was a forgotten thing, a leisure hardly ever afforded, for they attacked in the night, the morning, the day. To sleep was to leave the door open for death. Being locked in the training room, there was nowhere to escape. He settled for closing his eyes for a prolonged moment or two, opening them to take in his surroundings, and then closing them once more. A sickening parody of sleep, as he sat in the cold, sterile white room. It was so cold that his body was constantly numb. His blood smeared the floor, the walls, even the ceiling.

The rules were simple.

If he defeated the guards, he was given food- although just barely.

If not, he was starved.

His wounds were not healed unless absolutely necessary- which meant only when he could no longer hold a 'saber. The rest of his injuries were left to fester. The pain kept him centered and gave him strength.

He was tortured, in all essence of the word.

The Dark Side of the force was his sole companion. It twined itself around his heart, his mind, and comforted him like a warm embrace. Cold and encouraging whispers seethed from the dark; It was all he knew.

His memories, his thoughts, his very name- even that speck of remaining light that had been so elusive to destroy- all gone with the squeeze of Snoke's hand.

He was only a machine built for combat, mindless and obedient and replaceable. And if he survived his training, he'd be the perfect soldier, far more powerful than that failed monstrosity that was Starkiller.

He was a blank piece of parchment that had been dipped into a vat of ink, dripping and colorless and repelling all manner of light.

Snoke had never been more proud of his creation.


End file.
